Work Text:
“Izuku, there’s danger on your left. Would you like me to engage enhanced combat mode?” Tokyo droned in his ear, his vision suddenly slightly obstructed by the information and stats about three different men trying to break into the bank some meters away.
Izuku stuck another web to the closests building, landing on top of a nearby convenience store’s roof, watching for a short moment before replying to his A.I.
“Enhanced combat mode…? I don’t remember programming something like that.” He mumbled, keeping his voice low in case his friends down below heard him.
Tokyo replied steadily. “ It was part of the combat assistance and training code you input into my cloud. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to check what you were programming in me before you did it. ”
Izuku chuckled guiltily, the eyes on his mask squinting with the movement of his face. “I was in a rush to put you together, sorry. But, anyway, enhanced combat mode sounds kind of awesome so, fire away, Tokyo.”
“ Of course, Izuku. Activating instant kill. ”
The eyes on his mask suddenly turned to sharp slits at the command, and his vision tinted red.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Izuku whispered hastily, instantly regretting ever programming something like that into Tokyo’s cloud. “I don’t want to kill anybody!”
“Deactivating instant kill. What did I say?”
Izuku whined before shooting a web across his post and swinging across the street. “Tokyo, you’re the worst!”
He swung skillfully, twisting and flipping in the air until he was close enough to the ground that it wouldn’t hurt when he landed.
Even after the full conversation he and Tokyo had prior to the confrontation, the three men attempting to break into the local bank had no luck actually managing to get in. Truthfully, it was a bit sad watching them struggle to pick a lock.
Izuku stood back and watched them for a moment, amused at their different approaches to pry the door open.
“ Do you plan on stopping them or should I call the authorities? ”
Izuku startled at Tokyo’s voice.
“You can do that?”
The lockpicking stopped in an instant. Izuku snapped his mouth shut, and jumped back at least a foot when one of the men swung a small pocket knife near his abdomen. He couldn’t explain that so easily to his mother.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be? Hah ?! Clown-boy.” The shorter of the trio, the one with the pocket knife, spat, scowling at Izuku as if he were causing them trouble. He supposed he was in an alternate universe where robbing banks was deemed socially acceptable.
“Actually, it’s Spider-Man.” He frowned, pointing at the comically large spider right smack in the center of his chest. “Don’t you think you’re a little old for playground insults?”
The man swung his knife again, and Izuku barely missed it, the point of the blade grazing his suit.
“Okay, I can see you don’t like to talk. I can help with that.”
He stuck a web onto the nearest wall, before shooting another at the man’s wrist and feet, and then onto the faces of his accomplices. While the other two yelled out and struggled to get the webbing off their faces, Izuku landed gracefully back onto the ground, smiling giddily at another job well done.
“What the hell is this stuff, you little shit!” One of the men growled, scratching aggressively at the sticky substance plastered on his face.
“Well, if you want the long answer, it’s basically man made spider silk. I actually had to go to a real lab to get some of the things I needed—!”
“God damn, you talk too much!” The shorter man snapped, somehow managing to lunge forward even with the webs stuck to his feet. The knife in his hand lodged itself a quarter of the way into his stomach, reacting too slowly to the assault.
Izuku stumbled backwards, choking on a painful gasp. In his panic he shot out a round of at least ten webs, practically gluing the man to the wall of the bank.
“Wow, okay, that hurt.” He wheezed, leaning into his side, and gripping the puncture wound. He could feel the blood already oozing into his costume. “It was nice talking to you guys, but I have to go clean this up now. That’s not gonna dissolve for another two hours, but you guys totally deserve it.”
The running start he always did before launching himself into the air was almost too painful to attempt with the injury he sustained. His mother was going to kill him if she found out.
“Tokyo, call the police.” He gasped out, flinching mid-air while he swung across the streets of the neighborhood.
“ On it. You’re in need of medical assistance, Izuku. You're bleeding from your stomach. ”
Izuku groaned, shaking his head rapidly to clear his blurring vision. “T-Tokyo, are you doing that? I-I can barely see anything.”
“ Izuku, you’re extremely light headed. You’re going to faint in about fifteen seconds. You need to land somewhere quickly. ”
“G-Good… idea.” He whispered, his eyes blinking much too slowly for it to be normal.
Izuku didn’t quite recognize the neighborhood he somehow ended up in, but the apartment complex looked similar to that of his own, so his own apartment couldn’t have been too far. Despite that, he knew his body couldn’t withstand another aerial launch. He shot his last web onto the closest fire escape at Tokyo’s hasty warning, before collapsing in front of a half opened window.
His vision was fading in and out, black spots aligning the borders of the night sky. Perhaps this would be his demise. Of all things that could have killed him, a knife to the gut just had to be it.
“What the hell? Oh— Oh my gosh—!” A new but oddly familiar voice muffled from… somewhere. Izuku was having trouble placing where anything was. “Here, let me— help you.”
A strong arm hooked under his knees and around his neck, before lifting his limp body off the cold metal of the fire escape. Izuku was too weak to brush him off.
This was bad. Worse than bad. Spider-Man was not supposed to show up halfway to his grave on some random person's fire escape. The knife hadn’t even gone in that deep. Not only was this unprofessional, it was embarrassing.
Izuku groaned in protest at the feeling of a plush mattress under his back and head.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be quiet. My sisters asleep across the hall, and I don’t think she’d be very happy to see Spider-Man bleeding out on my sheets.”
Well, it was good to know he wasn’t some Spider-Man fanboy. His mask might’ve been confiscated otherwise. The voice was still bothering him, however. In his current state, nothing felt quite right. It was difficult to put a finger on anything he was experiencing.
“This looks like a stab wound. You were stabbed.” The boy whispered, namely to himself, he figured. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. That’s good. I’m going to clean the blood with some water, it might sting a little. I’m sorry.”
The first wipe was absolute agony. Izuku tensed and bit the inside of his lips to keep his whimpers of pain contained. A few slipped out, and every time one did, the boy would apologize. He continued to wipe at his abdomen for up to five minutes— at least that’s what it felt like in Izuku’s muddled mind.
“I’m almost done. This is an antibiotic. This might actually feel nice.” A cooling gel-like substance was generously spread across his abdomen, offering an instant five second release before the sting returned.
By the end of the cleaning, Izuku was much more lucid, his vision fully functional, and his bodily reactions finally up to speed. From where he lay, he glanced around the boy’s bedroom while he stepped out for a moment, mentioning something about dressing.
The walls were a dark navy blue, they were also void of anything he might be interested in. There was a mahogany desk sitting right beside the window he must have pulled Izuku through, and a single picture frame sitting on it, along with a pencil holder that only seemed to be holding pens. Izuku snorted quietly at the observation. It was a bit plain, but it was in his best interest that he hadn’t somehow landed onto the fire escape of a Spider-Man super fan.
“Here’s a bandage for when you… go… wherever it is that superheroes go.” The boy said as he walked back into the room. Izuku couldn’t see him from where he was standing. “I can’t wrap it with your suit in the way, and I won’t ask you to take it off because that’s sort of uncomfortable. Um— what else…? Oh,”
The boy suddenly came into view and Izuku promptly flailed off the mattress, falling heavily onto his bottom and causing a resounding muted thump.
Oh gosh— oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh .
The boy startled at his reaction, his mismatched eyes blowing wide and his hand extending out to help him up— again.
“A-Are you okay, sir?”
No, in fact, he was not. He might’ve been the complete antithesis of okay. Izuku was in absolute agony.
Because somehow — some impossible way — of all the fire escapes to crash on in Musutafu, Izuku landed on Todoroki Shoto’s. The boy he may or may not have been crushing on since sophomore year. The boy that paid him absolutely no mind at all, and yet still drove him up the wall crazy . This was absolutely his luck. And he thought he’d gotten off easy.
He would have preferred the Spider-Man fanboy over this. Indefinitely.
Izuku quickly scrambled off the ground, offering a timid smile despite wearing the mask.
“Y-You don’t have to call me sir, we’re the same age.” Todoroki’s face shifted curiously and Izuku immediately backtracked. “I-I mean— I th-think we are! N-Not that I would know for s-sure or anything.”
Todoroki nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “R-Right. Um, well, here’s the bandage. There’s two extra ones, just in case you need them.”
Izuku took the dressings gratefully, nearly dropping them in his nervousness. “Th-Thanks, To— y-young man! Thank you for y-your help.”
Todoroki shook his head. “It was no problem. And, uh, you can call me Shoto.”
Oh gosh.
“ Izuku, you’re overheating. ”
“Not now, Tokyo!” He whispered hastily, as if he didn’t know his face was on fire. She was teasing him, he just knew she was.
“Tokyo…?” Shoto — Shoto! — echoed confusedly.
Izuku waved his hands out in front of him, nearly unraveling the bandages in doing so.
“J-Just— my A.I. She’s in my suit, I promise I’m not crazy!” He insisted.
Shoto nodded placatingly. “And her name is Tokyo?”
Izuku flushed under the mask.
“I’m not very creative with names. I mean, my name’s Spider-Man.”
Shoto huffed an airy chuckle, and Izuku’s knees nearly buckled. He had to go before he made an even bigger fool of himself. Perhaps he was way past that point, but even then, he wanted to preserve some of his dignity.
“Well, uh, I should get going now. Thank you again, Sh-Shoto, for helping me.” Izuku jumped onto the windowsill and winced when his side protested against the movement. “And you should really go to bed, you have school in the morning.”
He shot a web to the farthest building he could find and flew through the air, focusing all his attention on getting home and screaming into his pillow until he lost his voice.
“ You have school in the morning? Really? ”
Izuku whined, and shot another web. “Tokyo, I don’t want to hear it!”
“ That boy caused at least ten different chemical reactions in your brain. Who is he? ”
Of course she was bringing science into this. As if that made it any less mortifying.
“He’s nobody!”
“ It didn’t seem that way to me. All these reactions point to a romantic or sexual connection of some sort. Is he your boyfriend? ”
Izuku balked, his face flushing.
“H-How do you even know what that is?!”
“ Again, you really need to check what you’re programming in me before you do it. ”
Izuku grumbled under his breath the entire rest of the way back to his apartment, making a mental note to fix Tokyo’s programming as soon as he possibly could.
[…]
The following morning, Shoto nearly bolted out of bed, checking for the bloodied washcloth he’d buried underneath a stack of old notebook paper just in case Fuyumi went snooping around his room.
He lifted one of the corners and immediately felt himself relax. There it was— the tangible proof that the previous evening wasn’t just a vivid dream. Spider-Man had been in his room; he’d helped Spider-Man. Him , Shoto.
It was hard to focus on anything else for the rest of the day. He could hardly pay attention during any of his lectures, often finding his mind would replay the events of the previous night in his bedroom. He would revise some of the things he said, trying to imagine the new scenarios that would come from them.
It was only until lunch time that someone noticed— or perhaps, someone was brave enough to comment on it. Shoto was not very keen on talking, much less to strangers. But his friends… they were the exception.
“Todoroki-kun, I don’t mean to sound presumptuous but… is everything alright? Are you feeling okay?” Yaoyorozu, of course, took on a more gentle approach.
Shoto lifted his gaze away from his lunch, humming distantly before her question fully registered in his head.
“I’m fine, thanks.” He nodded, going back to his food. Truthfully, he wasn’t even hungry. He wasn’t really much of anything. The alarm and excitement of the previous night still lingered.
“Are you sure? You’re acting weirder than usual.” Jiro, Yaoyorozu’s girlfriend, was perhaps a little more on the blunt side.
Shoto sighed, leaning the side of his face onto his knuckles. “Am I?”
The two girls blinked at him, sharing a concerned look.
“Okay, seriously, what’s up? You look… spaced out.”
Shoto chewed the inside of his cheek in deep thought. He’d considered telling them; after all they were his best friends, and they probably should know about the life-changing experience he went through the previous evening. However, he quite enjoyed the fact that he and Spider-Man were keeping this a secret. Almost as if he trusted Shoto not to tell anyone. If it were anyone else but him, word about Spider-Man nearly bleeding out on a fire escape would have made headlines all over Japan. Had it been anyone else, his true identity might have already been exposed since that morning.
Spider-Man trusted him not to blow this out of proportion.
“Did you, like, get laid or something?”
But it was going to be hard with a friend like Jiro who was too persistent for her own good.
Shoto flinched back to life, his face growing warm only at the mere thought of doing something like that with Spider-Man. He hadn’t always paid the most attention to him, only ever hearing about him on the news and such, but last night had really opened his eyes. Spider-Man was not at all what he expected him to be.
“You did?!” Yaoyorozu gasped, taking his reaction as an answer.
Shoto garbled out nonsense, too flustered to come up with a proper excuse.
“Wow…” Jiro huffed. “Baby’s first time.”
“I— I didn’t do— that !” He stammered, hunching his shoulders in his embarrassment. “I… just… helped someone last night. That’s all.”
Jiro hummed. “How very specific and not vague at all.”
Yaoyorozu snorted. Shoto scowled.
“Dude, come on, it’s us. We’re not gonna judge you. It doesn’t matter what it is.” Jiro said, toning down the sarcasm. She was really serious then.
Shoto pressed his lips into a straight line, having an internal battle of whether or not he should really tell them. It’s not that they were untrustworthy, nor did he believe that they would spread the story around if he explicitly told them not to. He was only irrationally worried that this would somehow make its way back to Spider-Man. But, if Spider-Man could trust him, he had to trust that Yaoyorozu and Jiro were also worth putting faith in.
“You have to promise not to tell anyone .” Shoto stressed, lowering his voice just in case anyone else was listening in.
Jiro shrugged. “It’s not like I talk to anyone but you two.”
Yaoyorozu nodded reverently. “I promise.”
Shoto exhaled sharply, and leaned in closer, cupping a hand around his mouth and whispering, “I met Spider-Man last night.”
A loud clattering of a lunch tray, and the scrapping of a chair startled the three of them to look in the direction of the commotion. Uraraka Ochako, and Iida Tenya both scrambled from their seats, crouching onto the ground, and helping their other friend — Midoriya Izuku — up from his apparent fall. Shoto’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, before quickly looking back towards his friends.
“So… Spider-Man.” Jiro said, lowering her voice after Shoto shot her a look. “You… met him?”
He hesitated before nodding. “He was hurt, and I sort of dragged him into my room so that I could help clean him up. He was mostly in and out of consciousness the entire time, so we didn’t really get to talk.”
Jiro whistled lowly. “Well, no shit.” She mumbled, her eyes wide and impressed.
Yaoyorozu jumped in to express her own thoughts. “What was he like? Was he rude?”
“No, no.” Shoto insisted almost immediately. “He was really… actually kind of a dork. He’s not at all what I was expecting him to be.”
“What kind of dork are we talking about here? Like, a Midoriya kind of dork or a Mineta kind of dork.” Jiro asked.
Shoto was offended that she even felt those two were comparable. Clearly one trumped the other.
“Definitely a Midoriya type of dork. He was— cute in a dorky sort of way. You know?”
“Oh, we know.” Yaoyorozu giggled behind her palm. “Could you imagine if Midoriya-kun was Spider-Man? How funny that would be.”
Jiro scoffed, stabbing a cherry tomato with her chopstick. “That’s a pipe dream waiting to happen. No offense, but there’s no way in absolute hell Midoriya’s Spider-Man.”
Shoto hummed, not exactly voicing his agreement. He had no intention of finding out Spider-Man’s true identity, but if there was one person who fit the personality type exactly… it was Midoriya.
[…]
“ Izuku, this is not the way home. Where are you going? ” Tokyo spoke, startling him out of focus and nearly sending him crashing into a build board.
“You scared me!” He whined, shooting another web onto a nearby rooftop, and pausing for a moment to catch his breath. The heels of his feet were tucked underneath his bottom, positioned in a low squat just in case he had to take off quickly. “And I’m not going home.”
“ Yes, I know that. You’re going to see that boy again. ”
Izuku spluttered, his cheeks flushing.
“H-How did you know that?!”
“His apartment is right below us.” She highlighted Shoto’s window red— as if he didn’t know which one it was. “I save every route you take up in the cloud. I know many things, Izuku.”
“Well, can’t you just unknow them.” He frowned petulantly.
“ That’s not how my programming works. ” Tokyo replied. “ But that is besides the point. Why are we here? You have a curfew for eleven-thirty. ”
Izuku grumbled at the mention of the very uncool, very lame curfew he still followed even as a senior in high school. Try as he might, his mother would not allow him out past twelve in the morning.
“I’m here to say thank you to Shoto, and then leave. It’s only ten-forty five. I’ll be fast.”
“ But you said thank you last week. ”
“Tokyo, please!” He cried, throwing his hands up in the air haphazardly. “Stop acting like you don’t know why I’m here.”
“ I just wanted to hear you say it. ”
Izuku grumbled. “I should have programmed you with an off switch.”
“ I was just leaving. ” The telltale sound of her deactivating rang in his ears.
“Oh, come on, Tokyo, I was kidding.” He waited for a moment for her response. “Tokyo? Come on, I know you can hear me.” He tapped his earpiece insistently before sighing in defeat. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”
Izuku shot a web onto the stairs that led down to Shoto’s fire escape, quietly swinging himself across the alleyway, and landing just as silently. The window was cracked all the way open, his curtains even drawn off to the side, giving him absolutely no element of surprise.
Shoto sat at his desk stationed right beside the window, a chunky pair of headphones placed over his ears, and thinly framed glasses sitting on the very tip of his nose. Izuku merely stared for a moment. Shoto was always so beautiful. And… also studying… for the chemistry exam tomorrow. Shit. He’d totally forgotten about that.
Izuku thumped a fist against his forehead. He really had to start thinking things through better.
Just as he was about to swing back home and maybe do some studying himself, his ears picked up on a stuttered gasp and the clattering of a pen against the desk.
Izuku flinched, taking a step back, readying his web mechanism implanted in the suit's wrist. This was a bad idea. He should have just listened to Tokyo and went straight home.
“W-Wait!” Shoto whispered, slipping off his headphones and clambering over to the window. “Don’t go.”
Izuku swallowed thickly, deactivating the mechanism and dropping his arm back to his side awkwardly.
“Um, hi.” He muttered, his cheeks flushing at being caught. For a hero that only worked at night — most days — he had poor stealth skills.
“Hi,” Shoto replied with a small smile. He rested his palms on the windowsill and leaned the upper half of his body a little ways past the window just enough for the moon’s rays to reflect prettily in his eyes.
Izuku gulped, suddenly uneasy under his unrelenting attention. He could only imagine and agonize over how it would feel to be in this exact scenario without the mask.
“I feel like I caught you at a bad time. You looked busy.” He mumbled, attempting to scratch behind his ear even with the mask on. A nervous habit he could never break out of.
Shoto shook his head insistently, his eyebrows twitching as his hands scrambled to slip off his glasses, hanging them off by the collar of his sleep shirt.
“No, no, I just finished. I was just going over some notes for an exam.” He shrugged, slowly positioning himself onto the window frame, his legs tucked away into the warmth of his room, while the top half of his body leaned back against the wooden frame. Izuku watched unblinking, his movements so graceful it was distracting.
“Is there any particular reason why you came by?”
He startled at the sudden inquiry, tearing his gaze away from the window and hesitantly meeting Shoto’s eyes. The point of the mask was to keep his identity a secret, but he felt oddly exposed whenever he was made to stare into his pretty mismatched eyes.
Izuku cleared his throat in an attempt to at least seem calm.
“Uh— I was just passing through the neighborhood. I wanted to say thanks again for helping me last week. And also for not telling anyone about it.”
Well, technically he had told someone. Two someone’s. He remembered the following day after the accident overhearing him whispering about it with his friends. His ears were especially sensitive, even more so when he focused all his attention on one particular voice. It was partially the reason why he had literally fallen out of his seat that day.
Shoto stuttered over a hum, his eyes skirting off to the side. “I… actually did tell my friends about it. B-But they swore not to tell anyone else.” He insisted quietly. “Please don’t be upset.”
“Wh-Why would I be upset?!”
Yaoyorozu and Jiro were nice girls— even if they’d solved the million dollar question over one lunch period; who is Spider-Man? Izuku trusted Shoto’s judgement, which was precisely why he hadn’t asked Tokyo how to erase people’s memories, because apparently she knew how to do that.
“I don’t know.” Shoto wilted, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to put you under a spotlight or anything. I don't want to exploit you for money either. They were just curious.”
“I understand.” Izuku giggled. Shoto was really cute when he was flustered. “And I also don’t think you would do something like that. It’s happened a lot in the past, though. You wouldn’t believe all the times people have tried to lure me in to get a glimpse at who’s behind the mask.”
Shoto balked, disgust and contempt scrawling across his face. “People do that?”
Izuku huffed an exasperated chuckle, shaking his head incredulously as he stared down at his feet.
“Yeah. Sometimes I think it’s all people care about. My identity, not the reason why I do what I do.” He shrugged, a bitter smile pulling at his lips. “But then I meet people like you, and I remember that, good or bad, I love helping people. And I love when the help is reciprocated.”
For a long moment, it felt, neither of them said anything. It was as if they were having an undisclosed staring contest. Even with the mask on Izuku still felt oddly seen. Like Shoto was seeing him— not Spider-Man, or Midoriya, but him .
Gosh , how badly he wished that were true.
The tips of Shoto’s ears dusted a pretty shade of pink. It seemed he was not the only one who had noticed their game.
A knock at the door startled Izuku into action. The reaction was nearly instinctive. He plastered a web up onto the staircase sitting above them, quickly pulling himself out of view of whoever interrupted them.
“Shoto… what are you doing by the window?” A woman’s voice asked.
Izuku gulped, hanging upside down by his web. Not good, not good, not good. He was, once again, teetering the line of unprofessional. Spider-Man did not make home visits. Spider-Man was not supposed to have favorites. Izuku sighed at himself, really taking in his current situation. This all could have been avoided had he listened to Tokyo and just went home. She’d make sure to tell him that later on, too.
“Just getting some fresh air. I’ve been studying since eight.” Shoto lied smoothly, turning his back to the window, his fingertips drumming a pattern against the frame.
“Oh,” The woman hummed, her curiosity immediately dwindling. “Alright then. Get some sleep. It’s late.”
“I will. Goodnight, Nee-san.”
The instant the door to his bedroom clicked shut, Shoto swiveled his head back towards the window, his head sticking far out into the late evening moonlight.
“Are you still there?” He whispered into the night, his eyes surveying as far as they could go.
Izuku smiled, his cheeks swelling with affection.
“Up here.”
Shoto gasped, his eyelashes fluttering in surprise. “Oh—! Wow.” He gaped, unabashedly staring up at Izuku’s upside down form, the moon reflecting beautifully in his widened mismatched eyes. “That’s— amazing .”
Izuku’s face and neck grew warm at the earnest compliment.
“A-Ah, thank you.” He tried to keep the tremble out of his voice. Shoto made it incredibly hard to keep his composure.
With the help of his web mechanism, Izuku slowly inched himself down to about Shoto’s height, flushing only at how close their faces ended up actually being. He may have slightly miscalculated.
Shoto didn’t seem to notice nor did he seem to mind the close proximity, instead completely taking him by surprise by somehow getting even closer, daintily reaching one his hands out and caressing the web Izuku clung onto with his fingertips.
“What is this made from?” He whispered, curiosity clear in his voice, completely too enthralled by the web to notice how Izuku was beginning to tremble from nerves.
“Uh, w-well, salicylic acid, toluene, and methanol mostly. I make it all myself.” In his bedroom, no less.
“So Spider-Man likes chemistry.” Shoto mused— teasingly from the tone of his voice, before pulling his hand back inside the warmth of his room.
Izuku’s eyes bulged at the assumption that may or may not have some truth to it. Shit.
“Y-You could say that.” He stammered over an anxious chuckle. This was definitely his cue to leave. That was enough conversation for a lifetime, he may as well have told Shoto his true identity while he was at it. “Uh, well, it was nice talking to you Shoto, but I really have to go now. I have some more— um, superhero stuff I gotta do.”
“Oh, wait, before you go!” Shoto gasped, holding out his hand, and effectively stopping Izuku from swinging away. “I have a request.”
“An autograph?” Izuku guessed politely. Though, if it were true he’d be more than happy to sign whatever it is he wanted. He’d actually been practicing his Spider-Man signature for a while now— this would be good practice.
“No, not that.” Shoto faltered, suddenly appearing a little nervous. He pointed to Izuku’s web and exhaled a quick breath. “If… we ever run into each other again, you have to promise you’ll take me with you on your webs.”
Izuku balked, nearly slipping up and dropping himself on his head at the request. “Y-You mean, like, me swinging with you? You’d willingly do that?”
“Of course I would.” Shoto shrugged as if he weren’t literally asking Izuku to launch him fifty feet in the air without a safety net waiting for them at the bottom on the off chance that he dropped them both. “Promise me?”
Izuku hated to have to lie, but he couldn’t risk injuring him. The only thing he was promising was a sure-to-be accident, and he refused to be the root of it.
Spider-Man could promise. Not him.
“Okay, sure.” Izuku conceded, smiling bitterly behind the mask. “Goodnight, Shoto.”
He shot a web across the alleyway and launched himself through the air, the wind whistling past his ears familiarly.
As quickly as it started, whatever friendship Shoto and Spider-Man were forming was no more. He would go back to being Midoriya— never seen, always ignored. Perhaps, that was for the best.
[…]
Spider-Man’s identity was not something Shoto had been actively trying to figure out— at least not until the previous evening. He sort of understood now why people were so obsessed with finding out the truth, although he figured they were in it for totally different reasons.
While others were actively trying to figure out Spider-Man’s true identity for fame and fortune— Shoto was doing it mainly for the benefit of himself. Because truthfully, he had only ever felt that spark in his chest with one person and one person only.
But he didn’t want to be hasty in his guesses. He was taking it slow, analyzing and picking apart both of his strangely prolonged interactions with Spider-Man. It all boiled down to his mannerisms and build mostly. And the fact that he was oddly interested in chemistry.
He figured there was a good point to start.
His advanced chemistry class held a small number of thirteen students. Unfortunate, but it worked in his favor just this once. In those thirteen students, there were five guys (not including himself) and seven girls. That already left him with five suspects— or, potential Spider-Man’s he should say.
Shoto immediately eliminated anyone who stood absolutely no chance at being Spider-Man; such as Bakugo Katsuki. He was too bulky, and his voice was far too deep to be the one Shoto’s had the pleasure of hearing twice now. And maybe he just didn’t want it to be Bakugo. He was practically the complete antithesis of Spider-Man anyway, but just the simple idea that they could be the same person made him wince.
Another immediate elimination was Monoma Neito. His voice really grated on the ears, and although he and Spider-Man had about the same build, Shoto refused to believe they could be the same person. Realistically, if he somehow were Spider-Man, Monoma would have definitely leaked his own identity to the press months ago.
That left him with three other classmates.
Shinso Hitoshi, Hanta Sero, and Midoriya Izuku.
Among those three, Shoto was sure of only one.
Midoriya was about the same height and build as Spider-Man. He was quiet, yes, but whenever he did speak, Shoto felt a spark of recognition in his chest. The soft, stuttery tenor was so achingly familiar.
The longing for the truth was what pushed him to stop Midoriya after class before he could rush out the door as he usually did. He always seemed in such a hurry.
“Midoriya, hey.” He greeted as casually as he could, placing a palm onto the flat of his oddly muscular shoulder.
As if being electrocuted, the boy flinched, hastily scrambling away from his hand with a loud and unapologetic squeak.
“O-Oh, Sh—! To-Todoroki-kun! H-Hello.” He whispered hoarsely, dramatically coughing into a closed fist. “Sorry, I-I have a bit of a cold. You may want to k-keep your distance.”
“Oh, sorry.” Shoto hesitated, dropping his hand back to his side. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I was wondering if I could borrow your notes from the lecture. I kind of dozed off at the end.”
Midoriya’s mouth wobbled as he mindlessly scratched behind his ear, his eyes skirting off to the side. Shoto watched him intently.
“It was mostly just a review of the exam. B-But sure!”
That mannerism. That was all he needed.
“I’ll bring these back to you tomorrow.” Shoto said, his voice leveled as he tucked the notebook underneath his arm.
Midoriya squirmed, his face fluctuating between a fiery shade of red and a ghostly pale color.
“S-Sure. Okay.”
Shoto was more sure of himself stepping out of the classroom. Because it had to be him. It had to be Midoriya. And maybe, in the privacy of his own mind, he wanted it to be him all along.
[…]
“ Are we just going to be swinging around the city until curfew? I haven’t detected any danger since yesterday evening when we stopped to help that man find his stolen bike. ”
Izuku snorted, twisting skillfully mid-air, free falling for a moment before catching himself with a web, swinging from building to building until he landed on the very top of a water tower.
“Hey, look, I can see my school from here.”
“ Izuku, ” Tokyo reprimanded lightly.
“Oh, come on, Tokyo! You said it yourself, there’s no immediate danger. We’re fine.” He insisted, leaning backwards on the tower and staring up at the starless Musutafu sky. “Spider-Man deserves a break once in a while.”
“ You could take a break in your— danger detected. ” The hair on his arms stood pin straight. Izuku sprang up, squatting on the heels of his feet as he surveyed the area below him. Tokyo highlighted an alleyway three buildings away. “ Pickpocketers, two of them. Neither are armed. One civilian. It’s the boy. ”
Izuku recoiled. “What—?! What do you mean the boy? You mean— are you talking about Shoto?” He stammered, shooting out a web and nearly missing its intended target in his haste.
“ Yes, it’s Shoto. Trust me, I’m the A.I. ”
Izuku winced, all playfulness thrown out the window in a mere second. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just don’t want to.”
“ There, ” Tokyo highlighted the alleyway for him again, probably sensing his rising panic.
Izuku rushed in, using the incredibly fast momentum to kick one of the pickpockets in the gut, sending him flailing backwards into a nearby wall, knocking him out unconscious fairly quickly.
The other of the duo flinched away at the commotion, falling on his bottom as Izuku approached him, revealing a trembling Shoto curled up in a corner behind him.
Anger and panic surged through him all at once, a horrible mix. His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“ Don’t do anything stupid. You’re a hero, not a murderer. ” Tokyo reminded him.
Izuku exhaled harshly through his nose— letting out some of the tension in his shoulders, quickly switching the setting of his webs before shooting out a round of ten small bullets, relishing in the yelps of pain the man was letting out every time one exploded against his skin.
“Yeah, those are going to hurt.” Izuku shrugged nonchalantly, standing over the man, satisfaction pooling at the pit of his stomach as he watched him try to pathetically squirm away. “Stun webs are reserved for the worst kind of people. I mean, come on, stealing from a high school student? Do something better with your life, man. And before you give me any excuses—“ Izuku switched back to his regular settings in a quick second, silencing the man with a web plastered over his mouth. “That should do it.”
“ Izuku, the boy. ” Tokyo reminded, highlighting Shoto’s trembling frame.
Izuku bounded over to him in a quick second, pushing down the urge to pull him closer with a web. He got down on his knees in front of him, his eyebrows pitching up with worry. He shouldn’t have gotten here so late.
“Shoto— are you hurt anywhere?” He asked gently, making an effort to sound comforting. Izuku hesitantly splayed his fingers over his shoulder, nearly flinching away when Shoto backed himself further away into the corner he tucked himself away in.
Shoto raised his head from where it was hidden away behind his knees, his eyes laced with panic and fear. Instantly, recognition and relief caressed the harsh worry lines on his face, his body sagging backwards into the dingy alleyway wall.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” He croaked, his face shiny with tears and… blood.
Cold panic seized him, his hands practically moving on their own, cupping Shoto’s jaw and holding his face up to the street light to get a better look. The guilt held him from around the throat, making it hard to breathe, his chest heaved pathetically.
“You’re hurt.” He trembled, gently wiping some of the blood from a tear at the corner of his lip.
Shoto gasped, wincing away at the touch, his hands coming up to rest on Izuku’s, curling around his palms as if wanting to pull them away. Izuku’s mouth wobbled, his jaw setting and his eyes determined.
“Come on,” He ushered gently, hooking an arm around Shoto’s shoulders, and helping him up from the dirtied ground. Izuku held him firmly from around his waist. “Hold onto me.”
Shoto followed his instruction quickly, coiling his arms around his neck, and sticking impossibly close to his side.
Izuku swallowed thickly, and exhaled a long breath. He’d never carried another person while using his webs. Ochako had been begging him to take her out on a ride, but even then he refused. The risk was too great. However, this might be the only exception. There was a first time for everything, he supposed. Izuku shot a web up onto the corner of the building that bordered the alleyway, and launched the both of them into the air.
Shoto gasped, binding his arms tighter around his neck and pressing his forehead against Izuku’s temple.
“ Oh my gosh, oh my gosh—! ”
Izuku heaved both of them into the air, swinging from building to building, keeping the flips and twists to a minimum with Shoto clinging onto him. Thankfully, his apartment wasn’t too far off, Tokyo giving him the directions as he went. Had it been under any other circumstances, Izuku might have prolonged the trip. But Shoto was hurt, and that was far more important than any temptation would ever be.
Izuku swung them onto that familiar fire escape, their feet touching down safely.
“Where are we?” Shoto croaked into his neck.
Izuku rubbed his shoulder blade in an attempt to be comforting, his other arm still occupied around his waist.
“Your apartment. Here,” He led them both towards the window, assisting Shoto in getting his legs over the frame. “Are you afraid of heights by any chance?” He couldn’t help but ask, the grip Shoto had on him distractingly strong.
“Oh,” He flushed, releasing him instantly. “Um, no. I don’t think so. That was just… overwhelming, I guess. How do you do that every day?”
Izuku helped him to his bed, backing away once the full weight of his body was off of him entirely and Shoto wasn’t at risk of falling over.
“Lots of practice. I almost puked the first time though.” He chuckled self deprecatingly whilst simultaneously surveying the room. “Tokyo, first aid kit?”
“ Under the bed. ”
“Oh, nice.”
“Your A.I knows where I keep my first aid kit?” Shoto gawked, watching intently as Izuku dropped onto his knees and pulled out the container filled with medical supplies.
“Uh, no. Not necessarily. Tokyo’s just highly advanced. She’s the reason I got to you in the first place, even if I was too late.” He sighed at the painful reminder, rifling through the container and pulling out the few supplies he needed. “I’m just glad you aren’t more hurt.”
Izuku rose back to his feet, and quickly got to work examining any and all of his injuries, clicking his tongue in distaste. From what he could tell, it was only a split lip and a bloody nose— but even then, it was too much. He was too hurt.
Izuku brushed Shoto’s bangs out of his face, tucking them as best as he could behind his ears, the scar over his left eye on full display. Izuku longed to kiss and caress his skin— to feel its warmth underneath his fingertips. Not the costumes, but his own. How he longed for them to be this close without the excuse of Spider-Man. How he’d give anything for that.
“You still saved me.” Shoto insisted firmly, flinching when Izuku dabbed at his bloodied nose.
“Sorry,” he whispered, frowning at the purple bruise forming around his left nostril. “This hardly feels like I saved you, Shoto. I should’ve gotten there sooner. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if I had.”
He brushed an alcohol wipe along the split on his lip, frowning guiltily when Shoto clenched his eyes shut at the sting.
“It could have been a lot worse.”
Izuku exhaled a long breath, bundling up the bits and pieces of trash he’d accumulated while he cleaned Shoto up, and walking towards the small trash can he kept at the corner of his desk, carefully dumping the waste in its rightful place.
“You’re stubborn.” He stated almost fondly, turning back towards him to finish the dressings and nearly knocking right into a broad chest. Shoto stood not even a foot away from him.
Izuku spluttered out a nervous chuckle on instinct, his eyes skirting off to the side, immediately looking for a way to escape.
“And you’re surprisingly modest.” Shoto rebutted just as gently, tilting his head off to the side, watching him intently— almost as if he were studying him.
Izuku coughed at the proximity of their— everything , accidentally backing into the desks’ chair, scuffing it along the wood flooring. Too close.
“U-Uh, well, that’s kind of part of being a hero. M-Modesty, h-humility…” He petered off pathetically as Shoto somehow took a step closer, practically hovering over him. “Sh-Shoto— whatareyoudoing? Haha .”
“I wanted to thank you. For today. For saving me.” He mumbled, his eyes wide and searching. Looking for permission— a sign that this was a good idea. It wasn’t. It absolutely was not.
Izuku spluttered out nonsense, his shoulders hiking up his shoulders on instinct. He was so close . Try as he might, there was no way to escape the sudden onslaught of— touching. Shoto was touching him— a lot. He wouldn’t stop finding ways to touch him.
“Y-You don’t need to do that. You s-saved me too, remember?” Izuku stammered anxiously, gulping around the lump forming in his throat.
Shoto’s hand came into view, caressing his jaw before his fingers hooked underneath the hem of his mask and pulled it up halfway, the tip of his nose and his mouth fully exposed. Panic seized him, startling backwards and knocking over the pen holder sitting on the desk, the pens clattering onto the floor.
“Sh-Shoto— what —?”
It was quick, so quick Izuku felt he may have imagined it. So quick, he barely had time to process it. So quick, his eyes stayed wide open the entire time.
Shoto was kissing him. He’d kissed him. He’d kissed— Spider-Man.
Izuku flinched back to life, his face entirely too overheated and now fully on display for Shoto to see.
“ Shoto —!” He whispered, absolutely scandalized, slapping his gloved palm over the half of his face that was exposed, gently pushing him away. He didn’t get very far, holding onto Izuku’s forearms securely.
“I’m— I’m sorry, I should have asked first.” Shoto stammered his cheeks splotching with color. Despite the obvious embarrassment, he made no indication that he intended on giving Izuku space to breathe.
Because even if this was everything he’s ever wanted— it wasn’t.
Shoto had fallen for Spider-Man, not Izuku. He saw the suit, and the mask, and the webs. Not him. If he knew the truth… if he knew who really wore the mask— there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the kiss would have never happened.
“Shoto— you… you need to understand that I’m… I’m not always Spider-Man. I’m a person— not that I’m insinuating th-that you don’t see me as a real person with real feelings! B-But— I… you kissed me and I think that means that you like me which, you know, would be great if I wasn’t wearing this stupid mask—! But, what I’m saying is— you— you like Spider-Man not me . And me— I am— I’m not what you want. Probably. Definitely— not what you want. I-If you knew who I really was, you would have never kissed me.”
Shoto’s face set firmly as he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing.
“I didn’t kiss you because you’re Spider-Man.” He assured gently, reaching up to curl his fingers around the base of his neck where— his hair . Izuku cowered away from his hand, scrambling to fit the mask back over his entire face. Shoto offered a tiny smile, settling on holding him firmly by the shoulders. “I have a feeling I know who you are. It was never my intention to find out in the first place, but the more I watched you, the more I realized it couldn’t be anyone else but you.”
Izuku shook his head, scoffing indignantly at the idea. He was so unfair. Saying all these sugary, flowery words— giving him a pathetic sense of hope that maybe he could be seen. There was no happy ending for him.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It would be nice if you knew the truth. There’s a very small, very selfish part of me that would like for you to know just so I can have some reassurance that you like me and not… him.”
Shoto’s hands glided up to the sides of his neck, holding his jaw, caressing him through the mask. That stupid, stupid mask that Izuku was really starting to hate.
“You’re making it seem like you and Spider-Man are two different people. As if me liking Spider-Man couldn’t possibly mean that I like who’s under the mask, too.”
Izuku smiled ruefully. “That’s exactly what it means.” He mumbled, so badly wishing he were anywhere else but here. It felt as if he was rubbing salt in the already pulsating wound.
If only he knew.
“ Midoriya ,”
Izuku’s stomach plunged to the ground, his insides turning to ice. His head snapped up so quickly his vision blurred for a short moment, coming back to him just for it to be filled with the picture of him. Shoto watching him— taking in his reaction.
No.
He panickedly shoved him off, ducking underneath his arms, and stumbling backwards against a nearby wall, his chest heaving and his shoulders tensed.
No.
Shoto followed him cautiously, his face anxious, and his hands extended towards him.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out.” He admitted softly, inching closer towards him. Izuku watched him through wide eyes, his mouth agape. “But… it is you, right? Midoriya Izuku from U.A. You’re in my advanced chemistry class.”
Izuku shook his head quickly, spluttering indignantly. What else could he do but deny it at this point. He’d done this to himself. Shoto figured it out.
“I— I have no idea who th-that is, I’m sorry.” He lied pathetically, his voice trembling as he tried to keep it at a consistent volume.
“Oh, come on,” Shoto begged, his voice suddenly taking on a pleading tone. “The costume doesn’t hide anything.”
Izuku froze. Shoto reached for him, cupping his jaw for the second time that evening.
“You’re more than just this mask.” He insisted, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric and tugging upwards. And this time, Izuku did nothing to try and stop him.
His face felt cold, and exposed. He felt… vulnerable, and small. He couldn’t quite meet Shoto’s eyes like this. He supposed the only good thing about wearing a mask all the time was the unintentional confidence boost it gave him.
He was nobody without it. Ironically— wearing the mask was his only way to really be seen. Despite how much he loathed pretending to be someone he wasn’t, it was the only reason why he was standing there being seen for the first time.
“Hi,” Shoto breathed.
Izuku’s mouth wobbled, his face growing three shades darker, it felt. Being seen was incredibly intimidating.
“H-Hey, Todoroki-kun.”
“Shoto’s fine.”
Izuku dragged his gaze away from the ground, his heart thundering in his chest.
It didn’t feel real. To be seen by the person he’s wanted to be seen by since as long as he could remember. It felt too liberating to be true. But, standing in his bedroom, having kissed only minutes prior, he realized that maybe this was his moment to seize and no one else’s. He wasn’t Spider-Man, or even Midoriya. In that moment, he was Izuku. Just Izuku.
“How did you… figure it out?” He muttered, his fingers fidgeting out in front of him. He could hardly stand still.
“Well, I’ve… noticed you.” Shoto admitted timidly, the tips of his ears suddenly dusting a soft shade of pink.
“Noticed me? L-Like… at school?” If so, Izuku had him beat by at least two and a half years.
Shoto nodded diminutively, timidity making his movements seem smaller.
“At school for the past… two years, at least.”
Izuku startled, his eyebrows shooting up to the middle of his forehead. No. Nononono.
“Y-You mean…”
“Sophomore year biology—“
“ No !” Izuku wailed, cowering behind his hands. “Please don’t tell me you actually remember that.”
“Of course I remember.” Shoto huffed, sounding baffled that Izuku assumed he wouldn’t. “I thought about it from time to time whenever I saw you after it happened. I still do sometimes when I see you around school.”
“W-Well, why haven’t you— why did it take you this long to talk to me?” Izuku said, his embarrassment dwindling down to insecurity. It was always his first instinct. “Without Spider-Man, I’m just… me. Y-You must have been disappointed. So—“ he was promptly— unapologetically cut off.
“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” Shoto reiterated, poking Izuku hard at the center of his chest. “It never mattered to me who you were, because with the mask on or not you’re still Midoriya. I wasn’t disappointed, because— because I wanted it to be you.”
Izuku blinked, trying to absorb the onslaught of information being dumped into him. Shoto didn’t pause to let him catch up.
“I guess, really, I was only using Spider-Man as an excuse to get closer to you. Not the other way around. I could— actually care less if you’re a superhero or not. Because at the end of the day, you’re still Midoriya. And I liked him way before I knew who Spider-Man was.”
Oh.
That was… reassuring.
Wait.
Oh.
Izuku’s face flushed, suddenly feeling faint.
“You… like me.” He echoed breathily. Truthfully, it was the only piece of information that was willing to stick in his muddled mind, replaying over and over again.
Shoto’s eyelashes fluttered, his cheeks tinting a lovely rosy color.
“I kissed you.”
Izuku whined, burying his face in his hands. This couldn’t be real.
“ Curfew in ten minutes. ”
“Wh-What—? No way it’s been that long.” He flinched, checking the built in watch embedded in the suit's wrist and gaping at the time.
“What—?” Shoto blinked, clearly confused.
Izuku offered a grim smile. “Ah, my mask please?”
Shoto handed it to him wordlessly, watching as Izuku slipped it back on and approached the window.
“W-Wait, you’re just leaving ? I-Is this about what I said?”
“ No !” Izuku yelped, his hands flailing out in front of him. “I, uh, have a curfew. I can’t be late. This has nothing to do with you— us—?”
“There’s an us now?”
Izuku nearly tripped on his way out through the window. “D-Don’t tease me.”
“Sorry.” Shoto grinned, not even having the decency to at least look apologetic. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right? You’re not just gonna disappear now that I know your secret identity?”
Izuku’s face swelled with heat. “A-Ah, no. I-I’ll be there.”
Shoto hummed. “Okay, then.” The upper half of his body maneuvered through the window, moving closer and closer until the warm touch of his lips pressed against the mask.
Izuku, once again, really hated the damn thing, kissing him back as best he could through the latex. He hoped — maybe even knew — that he’d be able to do this again without the mask on.
“Just in case.” Shoto whispered once he broke away, smiling as if he hadn’t just kissed him senseless. And for the second time.
Izuku nodded jerkily, subconsciously bringing his fingertips up to his lips, feeling them tingle with warmth.
“J-Just in case, right.” He repeated breathily, not even looking to see where he aimed his web. “See you— tomorrow.”
Shoto’s smile blurred as he launched himself into the air, burning the image in his brain. The cold wind felt amazing against his permanently heated skin.
“ So, that went well. ”
Izuku laughed giddily, swinging himself so high he felt as if he could touch the moon. Maybe he could.
“Tokyo, that went amazing. ”
Because for the first time in his entire life, someone finally sees him. Not as Spider-Man, not as Midoriya— but as Izuku.
Just Izuku.